


A Bedtime Story by Rocket Racoon

by Mari_Knickerbocker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Meet-Cute, Mild Language, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10775031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Knickerbocker/pseuds/Mari_Knickerbocker
Summary: Happy (belated) Birthday to the queen of the Crackship Armada and an absolute gem whose given so many of us wonderful birthday fics of our own over the last year!





	A Bedtime Story by Rocket Racoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Marvel-ous Birthdays 2016](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561112) by [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk). 



“Gather ‘round kiddies while me and your unkie Groot tell ya how yer daddies got their collective heads outta their asses and realized that they were soulmates ” – 

“I am Groot.”

“Whadda mean don’t swear in front of the kids? Don’t tell me what to do. ‘Sides they share some portion of their DNA with our fearless leader Star Jerk. And if you’re really gonna try ‘n tell me that they’ve haven’t been born corrupted then you’ve been growin’ and smokin’ the good shit again and not sharin’ which is just rude.”

“I am Groot.”

“Bull. To quote that dickhead Stark; you’re a goddamn hippie.” 

“This is not putting the children to bed.”

“Can it Drax you already had your turn at bath time.”

“You stole them before I could finish giving them a proper cleaning.”

“Oh boo hoo, cry me a fuckin’ river. ‘Sides you always leave ‘em in the tub too long and their skin gets all pruny.”

“I do not.”

“I am Groot.”

“Don’t take his side.”

“Rocket!” Gamora’s yell echoed throughout the Milano causing the kids to giggle even as their remaining minders jumped guiltily and attempted to look innocent knowing full well that she couldn’t possibly see them. After a brief shared look of commiseration Drax stalked off down the corridor towards his own quarters; muttering darkly to himself about opinionated raccoons and their subpar understanding of proper bathing rituals and leaving Rocket and Groot to finish the task of putting the twins to bed.

“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Rocket gently scolded the still giggling toddlers being careful to do so under his breath. It was a fact universally acknowledged that Gamora was both terrifying and the kiddos favorite (well, she and Natasha were tied for the honor of favorite aunt). He wouldn't survive if she caught him trying to turn them against her, even if he was only kidding. 

In reply the little rascals only stared up at him with those guileless sparkling blue-green eyes and gummy gapped tooth smiles that’d only did so much to hide the perchance for mischief they had inherited from all three of their parents. And Rocket would be lying if he ever tried to say he wasn’t completely smitten by the little humies. He only pretended to hate how they pulled at his tail and gummed up his fur after grabbing slobbering fistfulls of it. Although if anyone other than Groot were to suggest that he was the kids favorite living teddy bear Rocket wouldn’t hesitate to gut ‘em. And that’s just facts.

“Now as I was sayin before I was so rudely interrupted; yer folks are soulmates but the thing is they didn’t know it, what with the marks appearing in different ways for each species. Humies always get their words but for a lot of other races the mark doesn’t show up until after they’ve touched each other of the first time. Which can make things damn awkward - ”

“I am Groot.”

“Lookit we agreed that tonight I’m tellin the story and this is how I’m tellin it! When it’s your turn to tell it you can tell it the way you want to until then but out.”

“I am Groot.”

“Thank you, where was I.. oh yeah, so not that long ago in a galaxy right next door…”

 **~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

It was the middle of the night on board the Milano - or rather what passed for the middle of the night on a spaceship hurtling through space surrounded by untold and unnamed constellations, but that’s if you were looking to be exacting - and every single one of her occupants were blissfully enjoying the sleep of the just...Er, well in theory. In reality, Peter was sitting up in the cockpit with his feet kicked up on the dash his head bopping along to whatever song was currently unwinding into the headphones of his walkman. Most nights he could be found there (having gotten accustomed to snatching a few hours of sleep at a time - thanks both to his mother’s illness and his subsequent raising by Ravagers) listing to his tunes and studying the stars. It's a rare moment of peace and quiet and if questioned he’d deny ever seeking it out but right then in the privacy of his own mind Peter could admit he needs it. He hasn’t been granted many of those moments in his life - through no fault of his own or anyone else's really. It's just the circumstances being what they are. People never seemed to think there was a need to allow the bastard son of a single mother to just be left to his own devices and that was doubly true when he became an inconveniently kidnapped Terran brat that they’d ‘been persuaded’ not to eat. And now it was shaping up to be the same story for an ex-Ravager turned Guardian of the Galaxy. You know, sometimes a man just needed to be left alone with his own goddamn peace of mind. 

_Guess that means I ought to be grateful the rest of these losers get it_ ; he huffed out a sigh at the thought and rolled his eyes. He was grateful - in his own way - that his fellow Guardians understood his need for solitude without ever having to discuss it but that didn’t stop him from feeling lonely. Peter liked knowing he’d finally found himself where he belonged but belonging didn’t come without its own set of sharp edges. As far as he was concerned the rag-tag bunch of losers he now shared his precious ship with were his family and the best damn family he’d managed to find for himself yet. So what if this family didn’t include his soulmate? He didn’t need one! He was a strong, independent, man-slut of a humie and didn’t need no soulmate holdin’ him back (and Peter really needed to remember that Rocket gave shit pep talks like seriously even Drax was better at that then the pyromaniac rodent). Truthfully though, soulmates were dicks and Peter didn’t want to have to deal with that; just look at what his mother had gone through all thanks to hers! Peter’s met his father and that guy's a jackass. If his mom could end up with such a deadbeat as a soulmate than Peter never, ever, wanted to meet his. Yeah, so as far as he was concerned whoever it was that Fate decided got to stamp the word “gladly” across the meat of Pete’s left ass cheek could go ahead and kiss it; and not for any fun reasons. Peter didn’t need ‘em (and that might be why he made a point out of sleeping with everyone (and everything) else that he physically could but another Terran..well, that and that there really weren’t all that many of them to be found outside of Terra).

Gradually, over the warbling sounds of 10cc’s “I’m Not in Love”, he picks up on the sounds of an argument. With a resigned, and frankly resentful, groan Peter took his feet off the dash and stood up with the intention of meandering his way towards the hatch to the lower levels. He didn’t bother to turn down his music or remove his headphones trying to postpone the inevitable and stretch out his stolen moment of quiet introspection for as long as possible. One of the voices was distinctly female and while he had a policy to never interfere with Gamora’s business (he did have some sense of self preservation after all) it wouldn’t stop him from barging in and demand that whoever had antagonized her this time just back the fuck off. If she was on a video call he wasn’t above cutting it off and claiming technical difficulties. 

“Behold! How the mighty have fallen;” a smarmy voice cut through the familiar crooning about how ‘its just a silly phase i’m going through’ making Peter pause and take notice. There was something about it that made him shiver in anticipation; “you’ve finally betrayed your father only to land yourself here in this....Would you really call this a ship and not a trash compactor?”

_Oh, that dick!_

“You’re one to talk Asgardian,” Gamora snapped back, “how many father figures do you have left to betray?”

“None for I am Loki Son-of-None.”

“More like Loki Full-of-Shit,” she countered and Peter could hear the underlying fondness in her insult. It was the same tone of voice she used when she would talk about Nebula.

“Well, that too,” Loki admitted easily enough. Peter could just picture his indifferent shrug at being called out. Clearly they had some kind of understanding of each other that no one else could and he was fairly certain that that was thanks to an unhealthy exposure to Thanos and he didn’t really want to know. Still that didn’t keep him from hovering by the ladder steps leading down to the galley. Every thief worth his salt knew the importance of eavesdropping and whatever else he might be now Peter’s always been sneaky.

“Why are you here?” Gamora sounded resigned - it was never a good thing when Gamora sounded resigned. That usually meant that shit had already gone and hit the fan and she wasn’t looking forward to cleaning it up.

“I hand heard about your misadventure on Xandar,” he began to explain only to be interrupted by Gamora’s disbelieving snort.

“Oh, like I heard about your misadventure on Terra? Tell me Loki have you forsaken your dream to rule to become some sort of traveling prophet?”

“Wait!” The exclamation exploded out of him before Peter was even aware he had decided to but in. “This is the dickhead who thought he could rule Terra?” he demanded sticking his head through the hatch to glare upside down at the two aliens. “You honestly thought you could just stroll on up to a plant full of outlaws, plant your flag, and not have ‘em put up a fight? Dude you’re an idiot!”

“Thanks Peter, I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“Ok now I know your sassing me,” he admonished her pulling his head back through the hatch then starting down the stairs, “but i’m not gonna let that hurt my feelings. I’m made of tougher stuff than that.”

“Clearly, Midgardians are mightier than any of us ever dared to believe,” Loki interjected drawing Peter’s attention fully to him for the first time since he decided to infringe upon their weird little sibling rivalry type thing. 

His first impression of the wayward Asgardian was how mind-numbingly gorgeous the man was. No joke, he felt both his mind and his heart short out after just one glance. Which would explain why he promptly tripped and missed the last two steps on the way down. Peter was already preemptively flinching in anticipation of face planting on the hard alloy of the floor even as he cringed internally over his own clumsiness, when a long finger and surprisingly strong hand caught him by the bicep stopping him from a broken nose to go along with the bruised ego.

“Unfortunately, one must be willing to truly look hard to see it.”

“Hey!,” Peter protested pulling away from the unexpected warmth of Loki’s hold on him, “Asgardians are such dicks!”

“I am not of Asgard,” he countered absentmindedly staring at Peter’s arm where his hand had just been, “and you’re my soulmate.”

“I’m your what?!” 

In reply Loki held up his hand and pointed towards Peter’s bicep with the other. Looking down he saw a swirling blue-green mark on his skin from where half of Loki’s palm must of rested as he grabbed him to prevent Peter from bashing his own skull in. A sharp glare at the offending appendage in question showed a matching mark that only covered Loki’s pinky and the bottom half of his palm; there was a clear bisecting line across the center of his palm from where Peter’s sleep shirt had covered the rest of his bicep. 

“My soulmate.” Loki repeated with a gentle half smile half smirk that Peter did not find utterly adorable - nope, not one bit. 

“Well shit,” was the only response he could think of to that. Staring back at Loki and attempting to keep his gaze from wandering Peter noticed that the former Asgardian prince shared no such qualms and was blatantly checking him out. Swallowing audibly past the sudden dryness in his throat and decided that his world view could stand to be shaken up more than a little Peter offered; 

“I suppose I could give you a chance and not write you off as being 100% a dick like I’d planned too.”

“I would consider it a kindness if you did,” the man practically purred pulling Peter close against his side. “Please allow me to prove how worthy I am of your regard.” 

Without further preamble he lead Peter away towards the Milano’s sleeping quarters barely giving him enough time to look back and catch the glint of mischief in Gamora’s eyes. Something told him he wasn’t going to be allowed to forget how he practically swooned into his soulmates arms any times soon but he could handle her and the rests teasing. He wasn’t called Star Lord for nothing after all.

**………………**

Thanos was defeated, the infinity stones were safely tucked away and once again the world - the galaxy - was safe from disaster. Which, obviously, meant it was time to get down and boogie in celebration. Since Stark considered himself the grand poobah of all things celebratory the after mission bash was held at his place. Sam’s been to a couple a time or two before and true to form there was no expense spared on the booze or the munchies but he’d seemed to have gotten the memo from the last time he hosted everyone and cut down on the extraneous guest list. Which either symbolized some personal growth on his part or the fact that both Rhodes and Pepper had put their collect feet down and decided to rein him in. Either prospected sounded like a good one in Sam’s book. Especially if this party, unlike the last, wasn’t rudely interrupted by some homicidal maniac with a planet sized grudge against humanity.

The sudden commotion of raised voices quickly punctured the party atmosphere for everyone in the lounge. As one they turned towards the staircase to find Stark pontificating a mile a minute about some imagined slight, complete with frantic hand gestures, followed by Quill and a smirking Loki.

Now while Sam had appreciated the man’s assist when it came to the whole Thanos debacle he hadn’t forgotten the bullshit that was the Battle of New York and he had a healthy appreciation for the idea that a smirking Loki was a dangerous one. Especially since he looked like the cat who got the canary right now and was doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact. 

“And in conclusion,” Stark ranted as the trio finally made it up to the lounge with everyone else, “I can’t believe you let him stick his tongue down your throat! No, wait actually I can believe that. What i’m having a hard time believe is that I walked in on you when you were so obviously just about to go down on him!”

It was at that ringing accusation that Sam noticed the more than slightly rumpled appearance of both Quill’s and Loki’s clothing. He also noticed as Gamora shared a knowing smirk with Nat and Thor. He also noticed how Peter flushed in embarrassment at Stark blabbering his business for everyone to hear but stubbornly tilted his chin up as if he could stop the fetching color of his cheeks from spreading through will alone. _Oh dear Lord, not another adorably stubborn idiot, momma's not gonna let me forget about this._ It was as Sam was having his moment of crisis that Quill’s green gaze caught his and it was then that he opened his mouth and rocked Sam’s world.

“No I wasn’t!” Quill denied even as Loki snorted in amusement making the denial seem even less believable than the man’s blushing already indicated. But Sam wasn’t paying attention to that. Instead he was memorized by the man staring beseechingly at him as if he was the last voice of reason to be found in the galaxy and spouting the soulmark words Sam had carried on his hip bone for as long as he could remember. “I was platonically kissing my platonic soulmate in a totally platonic way - there was no ‘tonsil hockey’ or ‘going down’ or any other such thing happening. I’m serious! It was all just very platonic.”

“Say ‘platonic’ one more time luv maybe then they’ll believe you.” Loki teased him wrapping an arm around Quill’s waist and resting his chin on the slightly shorter man’s shoulder to watch the progression of his flabbergasted expression with fond amusement.

“Oh bite me!”

“Gladly,” Sam replied without thinking only realizing that he had spoken when he wondered why the word seemed to echo. Apparently he and Loki had had the same instinctive response to a throw away challenge like that. Judging by Loki’s gleeful expression and Peter’s sudden impression of a stranded fish neither one of them had expected Sam to say anything let alone that but they weren’t entirely put off by it either. A fact that Loki proved with his very next words;

“Come, let me show you where,” and he reached out to grab Sam by the wrist, dragging the Avenger along behind himself as he chivvied a surprisingly meek and furiously blushing Star Lord ahead of him. 

They were chased out of the lounge area by Stark’s fake gagging and Thor’s booming laugh.

.....

(And while Sam wasn't in a position to notice it then he certainly noticed later how a blue and red patterned mark (that vaguely resembled some celtic knot work) snaked its way around his wrist right where Loki's fingers of his left hand had grabbed him. When Peter got a good look at it he laughed and laughed. Slowly explain between his giggles how appropriate it was that the bottom half of Loki's palm contained his soulmark and the top half housed his soulmark for Sam because it was Loki's favorite hand to use for his special me time.)


End file.
